


El Knows Best

by t8rd1sg1rl



Series: El Knows Best [1]
Category: White Collar
Genre: Dirty Talk, Drunk Sex, Dubious Consent, Explicit Sexual Content, Large Cock, M/M, Multi, Orgy, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-29
Updated: 2014-07-29
Packaged: 2018-02-10 20:47:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2039568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/t8rd1sg1rl/pseuds/t8rd1sg1rl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elizabeth Burke knows what Peter and Neal needs. But one of them doesn't know it yet...</p>
            </blockquote>





	El Knows Best

**Author's Note:**

> Lunch break. Saw a guy so drunk off his ass, he began kissing the girl he was with.
> 
> Then his _boyfriend_ came over.
> 
> (oops)
> 
> Hence, this fic occurred. Hence the sloppy writing. I only had 45 minutes left to lunch.

Neal Caffrey was drunk.

Peter watched, bemused as El topped off Neal's red wine again. It was Neal's fault, really. The kid brought the wine over to celebrate three hard weeks working on the Langone Con. Their case was closed, water tight, nice and neat, just the way Peter liked it. Even Neal behaved, off anklet no less, no funny business. Peter knew he himself was drunk when he caught himself musing maybe Neal was finally getting his act together.

"Really, no more," Neal protested half-heartedly to El even as he drained the dregs of the wine. Neal said it was from 1967, which, according to the delight on El's face, was a very good year. Both bottles were corked, decanted and now five glasses later, Neal was loose limbed and slouched into the armchair. His dark hair was a tumble, his blue eyes smoky and half-mast. He smiled sloppily, his lips red from the dinner's tomato sauce and wine; he looked debauched.

Peter ignored the stirring between his legs. And like before, it subsided when he cast his eyes over to his wife.

"I'm the only one who'll appreciate this stuff," El laughed as she poured the last of the crimson liquid into his glass. Peter'll never drink it."

"I'll stick to beer," Peter rumbled. The wine did taste nice, but after one glass, he retreated to the comforting buzz of beer instead.

El had three glasses, which surprised Peter. She looked incredible with her cheeks flushed, her eyes overly bright, her dark hair spilling out of her braid and messily onto her shoulders. She wore her green dress with the v-neck that hinted the pale swells of her breasts. Peter liked that dress.

"Too bad," Neal slurred. He waved towards Peter, although it was more the lamp next to Peter. Peter shared a smirk with El. 

"Would love to see you drunk." Neal yawned. He blinked rapidly to rouse. His blue eyes glazed with an alcoholic haze.

"Want to see you drunk..."

"Was that a confession to conspire against a federal agent?" Peter joked. His heart hammered. Neal sounded almost wistful.

No answer.

When Peter looked over, Neal was slumped over in the chair. El sat on the armrest, carefully plucking the wine glass out of his slack fingers. That glass was nearly empty too.

"Great," Peter groused. "Now how do I get him to go home?"

"It's not like he never stayed the night," El chuckled. She carded a hand through Neal's hair. She smiled when Neal's head bumped into her hip.

Peter's breath caught. He thought of how Neal would look with El. Two dark haired visions with pale skin writhing in creamy sheets, backs arching, skin wet, sticky hot from sex, breathless and loose limbed.

Shit, there was a growing ache between his legs again. Peter clenched his jaw, but to his horror, his cock twitched and swelled even more when Neal sighed.

"Peter," El called softly.

Flushed, Peter closed his eyes. "El, I'm so goddamn sor—"

"Honey, look at me."

Peter met her gaze. His breath caught at the overblown pupils that met him. El was flushed as well, her brow glistening with perspiration and when he glanced down her dress, there was a wet spot between her legs.

"El..."

"Peter, I thought about you two." El caressed Neal's brow. Peter's stomach clenched at Neal's wistful exhale.

"I thought about it a lot. How you two would look, how your cock would look going into his body." Her breath fluttered, her voice unsteady. 

"I've thought of how you would look fucking him, like you own him. I thought of how Neal would look taking it."

"El," Peter choked. His slacks tented, painful as it pressed against his zipper. He rocked into the friction before he forced himself to stop.

"El, stop saying that," Peter plead.

"Peter, I see how you look at Neal."

"I..."

"It's okay. Who can blame you? Look at him."

El tipped Neal's head back. Neal slid down the armchair, his legs parting invitingly.

"Peter," El breathed. " _Look at him_. How can you not want this? I do."

Peter's throat was squeezing too tight. He stared from the couch, his erection leaking through his pants, his legs shaking. El planted images in his head he didn't ever dare indulge. He could see himself sliding into Neal's perfect ass; he could see himself filling Neal, like he would El. 

El...

"You?" Peter croaked. 

El's eyes shone. "Yes. Oh, Peter. I know Neal would be so good. The way he walks, talks, he's been begging for it." She sank down to her knees, the lower half of her dress damp and clinging to her thighs. She brushed a hand over Neal's groin.

"We can give Neal what he wants, Peter."

"El, don't."

Neal whimpered. He muttered as he drowsily rolled his hips forward, seeking El's touch.

El trailed up to his top button and undid it. She carefully pulled down the zipper.

Peter stared, transfixed as El peeled Neal's pants down, fine pressed trousers slithering down to his knees. She gasped.

"Peter, he's wet." El slipped a hand behind Neal. Neal mewed as her fingers must have brushed over his hole. She pulled up her fingers to show the tips shiny with lube.

"El." Peter went over and pulled her hand away from Neal. "Stop. We shouldn't do this to him."

Neal murmured sleepily and sagged forward. 

Startled, Peter caught him as he fell out of the chair. Peter grunted as he sat back on his heels, head spinning as he held the sleepy weight.

"Peter, look at him." El tugged down Neal's boxers before Peter could protest.

Peter's arms curled around Neal tighter. His breath grew shorter as he stared at Neal's exposed buttocks. El stroked the smooth, taut cheeks. She cradled them, gave them a squeeze together, parted them and squeezed them together again.

Neal fidgeted, his body rocking under El's touch. 

El pried Neal's cheeks apart to reveal the rosy pucker slick and leaking lube. 

"El, don't," Peter panted as El boldly slipped a finger into Neal's hole.

Neal gasped. He moaned and arched into Peter, his body rubbing against Peter's covered cock.

"He must finger himself every night," El whispered, her eyes dark, as she pulled out. She pressed her damp finger to Peter's lips. Peter moaned at the taste before he could stop himself. "Peter, he's loose and so wet. He must do this to himself every night."

Alone, in June's apartment, pressing lube slick fingers into his dark heat, legs spread, head thrown back...

Peter rested his cheek on Neal's hair.

"We can't do this to him," Peter said weakly.

Yet Peter held Neal, transfixed as El pressed two fingers into Neal. She turned her wrist, her fingers stroking, twisting, scissoring until Neal gave a full bodied shiver and came. His cock spilled thick ribbons of cum onto Peter's front. Neal's pants and boxers sagged to the ground.

"See? Trust me, he wants this," El whispered. "Who else could he be thinking of when he did this every night?" She rubbed a palm over Peter's front, wiping the cum off, leaving streaks behind. "Peter, look at him. He's asking for it. He is. See how much he loved it? Imagine if it was your cock. He needs to be filled up, Peter. Neal was made to be filled up."

The heady smell of sex permeated the air. Peter stared, chest heaving, arms full of a wiggling Neal as El hiked up her dress to reveal her wet panties. She tugged them down and pressed her stained palm between her legs.

El moaned. She trembled as she slipped two fingers into herself. She came over her fingers, dribbling down her thighs. Her eyes were smoky with hunger when she gazed at Peter.

"Peter..."

Peter gulped as El shuffled close enough so he could touch her. He cupped her, stroke her soft and warm insides until his fingers came away wet when El shivered again. She grabbed his hand and moved it to Neal's hole.

"El..."

"Prep him, Peter. I want to see you do it."

Shakily, Peter slipped two fingers carefully into Neal. He moaned. Neal was indeed slick inside, loose yet still tight enough to resist his fingers as he stroked and massaged the walls of Neal's rectum.

Neal muttered something and slumped further into Peter. His hips began to rock back to get Peter's fingers deeper.

"See? Look how beautiful he is begging for it."

No, this wasn't right, yet Peter panted along with El as Neal languidly rode Peter's fingers, keening sleepily when Peter added a third. Neal was a warm bundle against him, drunk and helpless, muscles pliable as his body swayed under Peter and El's hands.

El panted as she traced Neal's hole while Peter played. She teased, slipping a fingertip in. Both Peter and Neal shuddered. Peter tugged Neal closer, his fingers stuttering as they darted in faster. Neal squirmed.

"Peter, now."

Peter blanched. "No, wait, he's not loose enough." 

The minute the protest left Peter's mouth, he knew he was damned. There was no turning back now. Neal, his head drooped forward, arched and writhed around Peter's three fingers and El's one. 

El's smile was small and knowing. "He's ready. He'll love it. Peter, I want to see him feel it. Don't you?"

_Yes._

In a daze, Peter followed El's instruction, maneuvering Neal until he sat on Peter's exposed lap. She stripped Neal of all his clothes, peeling them off so slowly, Peter was dizzy with want as more and more skin was revealed.

El left on Neal's silk tie though. She said to trust her; it would be useful later. 

Peter's throbbing cock brushed along the crack of Neal's ass. He rutted between the cheeks. Neal mewled but his head only lolled left and right. His throat worked as El tipped the last of the wine into Neal, coaxed him to swallow every drop. Neal choked briefly but dutifully drank.

The long throat working as he swallowed sent fires down Peter's cock. He humped into Neal's crack until the skin was left raw and pink. Neal murmured, still drunk though, barely moving although Peter thought he heard a stray whimper or two. To his fading dismay, it wasn't enough to get him to stop.

Neal stayed slumped back against Peter, his hips languidly bucking up with Peter's sharp thrusts.

"Now, Peter. Now." El reached around and spread Neal obscenely open. Neal fidgeted, his brow furrowing. Her mouth parted in anticipation.

Peter shook his head, his nerve gone.

El's voice hardened. "Take him now, Peter. He's ours. _Take him_."

Neal was still too tight. Even as El coaxed Peter to inch in, Neal's hole gave resistance, a biting stop on his cock. 

Peter kept pushing under El's encouragement, grunting until the sphincter muscles relented around the large head of his flushed cock. He finally slid deeper, his progress halting every so often until Neal's body relaxed further around his girth. Eventually, half of Peter's cock was sheathed inside Neal's tight, wet hole.

El, in the meantime, had been fondling Neal's cock into hardness. When Neal's cock bounced up, his hips surging up into Peter's stroke, El straddled Neal and sank down over his cock.

"God, El," Peter breathed as he watched El throw her head back in a moan. 

"Move, Peter," El begged. 

Peter snapped up. Neal yipped as he buried his cock into El under Peter's stroke. She gripped Neal's shoulders, pushing him down onto Peter's cock and keeping herself astride over his.

Peter gritted his teeth. There was still a good few inches he couldn't get in. Even with El, he always had trouble. He was simply too wide, too long.

But El kept pressing her weight forward as she rocked over Neal and slowly, Peter's cock forced Neal's hole to take the rest of him.

Neal quivered. His buttocks clenched. Neal whimpered.

"Wait," Peter gasped. "El, I won't fit. I'm too big."

"You will," El almost sang as she shuddered around the combined strokes. She kept pushing Neal down, ignoring the increasing muttering pinned between them. "You'll make it fit, Peter. He was made for your cock; Neal was made for us. He looks so beautiful. Make him take all of it. I want to see him take every inch."

Peter should stop this. Neal didn't ask for this. But he felt good around Peter's cock and Neal's body was slowly, if reluctantly, accepted more of Peter's length.

Neal feebly struggled, his stomach clenching as El kept forcing him to bear down. Peter kept fucking Neal open and wider with short shallow strokes.

Suddenly Neal moaned deep in his throat. His rectum vibrated around Peter's dick and seemed to deflate, resigning to the inevitable. Peter grunted. His head suddenly felt too big on his shoulders, his ears ringing. Neal's hole spasm then snapped tighter around the base of Peter's cock.

He was completely in.

With a growl, head spinning, Peter grabbed Neal's hips with bruising fingers. He surged up, his cock impaling Neal deeper, forcing Neal to fuck hard into El.

El moaned, Neal whimpered. Peter stopped caring.

Over and over, Peter snapped his hips up, roughly bouncing Neal on his lap. He cut into that thrashing body with punishing strokes. Neal, sandwiched between them, bucked helplessly. His eyes were opened half-mast now, drool trickling out of his slack lips as he made tiny gasping noises, but Peter didn't _care_. He came into that beautiful body and reveled at the sight of his cum dribbling out that gaping hole. 

Neal was finally loose enough to take all of Peter.

El climbed off Neal, his cum leaking out of her cunt. They repositioned a dazed Neal on his hands and knees. Then she watched, idly fingering herself as Peter pounded into him that way. Neal yelped when Peter breached him completely with a single stroke. 

The tie was now wrapped around Neal's cock, constricting, forbidding Neal to come. Neal sleepily murmured, confused. He struggled weakly, his bound cock bobbing frantically and neglected.

After El came, she rode Peter's cock as Peter played with Neal's ass, his fingers tugging and crooking within loose and moist insides. El cooed as she guided Peter's cock back into Neal's weeping hole. She slipped a finger in to feel the thrusts. 

Neal seemed to be waking up. Peter hesitated until El cajoled him to sit carefully on Neal's face and slip his cock deep into Neal's gagging throat. He turned to watch El mouthed Neal's wrapped cock before releasing the tie.

Still thrusting into Neal's kiss swollen mouth, ignoring the choking noises under him, Peter clasped hands with El. Together they tugged and jerked Neal into completion.

When Neal came, his eyes flew open, wide and startled. El nudged Neal's legs apart and walked Peter through how best to drape Neal's legs over his shoulders. She hummed as she watched Peter lean in, folding Neal in half as he sank back into Neal's body. 

El gasped when Neal gasped, she pleaded in place of Neal to go faster, harder and deeper. She said Neal still wanted it, even when he stopped coming. Peter believed her. El said Neal wanted it tighter, so he jammed three fingers in with his cock. Sure enough, Neal came weakly.

Peter relished the trembling around his cock. He came one more time deep into Neal's quivering ass, roughly pulled out then roughly fucked El right there on the carpet, by their couch, empty wine bottles rolling against his ankles. As he thrust into El to carry her into her newest orgasm, his hand slipped carefully, one finger at a time to settle possessively inside Neal's stretched rectum. Neal keened and writhed around his hand. His rectum was loose, moist, made for fucking. A perfect fit. He truly was made for Peter's cock.

As El arched into Peter's cock, he bunched his hand into a fist and rubbed the swollen prostate inside Neal.

When both El and Neal came wailing, it was glorious.

WC - WC - WC - WC - WC

Neal groaned as he cracked his eyes open. He found himself on his stomach, naked, aching bone deep, crushed to the bed by a hot weight on his bare back. His hand was pulled down to fondle something warm and damp. He turned his head. Even that ached.

His ass was sore, his hole burning like he had bad cramps before and had relieved too violently. He felt overstretched, like his body will never snap back into place. His inner thighs felt raw and sticky. And his throat felt sand papery and tasted funny. He ached in intimate places, burned in fragile places and felt both bloated and empty at the same time. And he reeked. His hair, his bare shoulders, his exhales.

Neal knew this feeling. He recognized the feeling of being overused.

The weight on top of him grumbled. A limp cock settled between his cheeks started to stir and rubbed against his sore opening. Neal stiffened. 

Peter. 

He felt moisture trickling down to the webbing between his fingers as they were guided to a hot sponginess that pulsed around his digits. 

El.

Neal trembled. Soon, Peter was going to wake up. Soon, he was going to see Neal. And...and...

With a whimper, Neal shook. His eyes burned and spilled over. The bed underneath him rapidly grew damp.

"Sh." El drew her face closer to Neal's. She tugged his hand free from between her legs and slipped her fingers deep into his mouth, pressing down the flat of his tongue. She watched Neal lick her hand clean before she pulled out so he could breathe.

"You were so good, baby. We could have done this all night but I guess we tired you out." El stroked his cheek. She paused. She tsked.

"Tears? Don't cry. Sh. Don't cry. It'll be okay. You were so beautiful. I wish you could have seen yourself when Peter made you take his big cock. I knew you would be perfect. Peter barely fit but he did eventually. I knew he would. You did such a good job. You came so sweetly and perfect in me. And you were so stuffed up with Peter's cum. You barely kept it in your pretty hole but next time, you'll do better. Oh, the things we're going to do to you, honey."

Neal hiccuped. "Peter..."

El smiled secretly. "He didn't want to at first but I knew you were begging for it. Peter wanted it too but he was afraid to take it." She petted his hair. Neal shivered.

"Now that Peter had a taste, he won't ever want to stop. You're ours now, Neal. Oh, the things we'll do. We talked while you rested. Tying you up, maybe I'll join in with a strap-on, I'll dress you up Neal so Peter could fuck you in my dress, maybe bent over the kitchen..."

Neal gulped, trying to get the words out. Tears kept spilling. El kept shushing him as she slipped one hand between her legs again and stroked secret places Neal should have never known about. 

"El," Neal whispered, his lower lip swollen from the kisses he barely remembered, tasting faintly bitter from the cum he must have swallowed. 

El shifted closer to him, her bare breasts pressing against him.

Neal shuddered.

"Are you sure? Are you sure Peter will still want this after he wakes up?"

"I told you we could convince him." El tenderly kissed Neal on the nose, like she had when Neal had tearfully confessed to her his feelings for them both. 

"It's going to be all right, sweetie. Trust me. I told you I would take care of it."

Neal smiled drowsily, wider, as he felt Peter on top of him waking, his cock hard and leaking along the crack of his ass. Peter's hands, his beautiful large hands that were stuffed in him before, moved roughly to pry his cheeks apart. Neal sighed happily as El winked at him.

"You're right, El," Peter murmured hoarsely. "He's made for this." And without pause, Peter mounted Neal, thrusting hard and brutal into Neal, crushing him to the mattress.

Neal couldn't help it. He keened happily, his ass bobbing as he felt Peter's cock own him. He sensed El shifting, pulling his mouth to her wet clit. She curled her hands to the back of his head and grabbed his hair to jerk his lips closer. She shivered when Neal gladly began to eat her out with a nimble tongue.

"You sure he'll still want this," Peter grunted but his desperation and longing clear, "When he wakes up?"

Neal could hear the dark satisfaction in El's voice.

"Trust me," El cooed as she closed her thighs, trapping Neal's head between her legs. 

"I know best."

**Author's Note:**

> Look! Thought it was my usual, huh? But, surprise, not a rape fic! 
> 
> Yes, I was shocked too. LOL
> 
> \---------------------------
> 
> Feedback or not. Your choice. Thank you for reading!


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